


oh Lord, why don't we?

by with_wit_and_perfect_timing



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Anxiety, Boyfriends, Boys Kissing, Falling In Love, First Kiss, M/M, Nervousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 08:39:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13609662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/with_wit_and_perfect_timing/pseuds/with_wit_and_perfect_timing
Summary: Wylan’s hand rested on Jesper’s shoulder, and once again the boy asked himself how all of his life events led him up to this moment. The moment he had wanted to happen the second he saw the lanky Zemini boy approach him while he was stirring chemicals in that dreaded factory, and had been aching for ever since. Eyeing the generous dip of the cupid's bow of his perfect mouth and curious about the taste. What am I doing here?





	oh Lord, why don't we?

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this little tidbit before, but it was orphaned on accident so here I am hA 
> 
> \- Kaz

****

            “Stop.”

            Wylan’s hand rested on Jesper’s shoulder, and once again the boy asked himself how all of his life events led him up to this moment. The moment he had wanted to happen the second he saw the lanky Zemini boy approach him while he was stirring chemicals in that dreaded factory, and had been aching for ever since. Eyeing the generous dip of the cupid's bow of his perfect mouth and curious about the taste.  _What am I doing here?_

            He knew Jesper was feeling hysterical. The kind of hysterical that made him look like a broken windup toy. His mouth twitched, and his fingers fluttered, touching anything within reach. When Wylan touched him, Jesper looked desperate. Desperate for what, neither of them had a clue.

            The smaller boy forced himself to maintain eye contact. Jesper’s dark brown eyes pleaded for movement. Wylan had to do something.

            He took what he thought would be a shuddery breath, but it came out smoothly. “Just stop. Breathe.”

            Miraculously, his gaze held, and Jesper stilled, his chest slowly rising and falling. Wylan realized he was close enough to feel Jesper’s breath on his cheeks.

            Wylan frantically tried to remember every time Jesper make him flush pink, every flirt, every wink. All added up; did it mean something? Did it mean what he wanted, what he needed, it to mean?

             _No, not just girls._

_Maybe I liked your stupid face._

_But it’s not all I want._

_It’s brilliant, just like you._

_Saints, is that all real?_

_You thought he was me?_

Wylan made a decision. Damn his doubt, damn it to hell. He'd beat up his anxiety in a back alley if it meant he could have  _this._ He had been close to death a million and a half times in the past few months, and regret was no longer a feeling he was willing to submit to.

            He straightened his back and nodded. “Again.”

             _Do it, Wylan. This is it. This is what you’ve been waiting for, way longer than you are willing to admit. Just –_

There was a split second, a single fleeting moment where he hesitated. But when Jesper’s chest rose once again, Wylan leaned forward –

            And everything was perfect.

            This was real. This was real, and happening, and wow, and  _Wylan_ was  _kissing Jesper._ He could feel his own heart squeeze, and it took all of his restraint to keep from grinning into the kiss like a fool. He could hear the fireworks faintly popping from somewhere far off, and could only think about how he wasn’t thinking at all.

            Wylan reached to his tiptoes and grasped Jesper’s neck, sliding it down lightly to the base. He pulled down slightly, feeling euphoric when Jesper obeyed with a compliant noise. Wylan deepened the kiss, finally the feeling the fantasy that was Jesper’s mouth.

            He felt like laughing; he felt like crying. Now was the time for neither, and both. Jesper kept a gentle hand on the sensitive part of Wylan’s neck (which gave him a blissful, fizzy feeling), and the other firmly planted on Wylan’s hip. Wylan felt Jesper’s tongue graze over his bottom lip and he shivered as he brought him closer.

            Eventually, this had to end, as all perfect moments do, but Wylan knew he had to enjoy it while he could, and make it last.

            Jesper was…excitement. He was creation, bold, and wonder, and new, and  _here._ How could a person so big, so significant and important look at someone so vulnerable, so small, and _like_ it?

            He felt Jesper take one last deep breath, pressing his lips hard against Wylan’s and pulling him tighter, and they both knew it was time to break. Though their lips separated, the rest of their bodies failed to follow suit. Wylan kept his hands cupped on Jesper’s neck, and Jesper’s hands stayed on Wylan’s waist.

            “Wylan,” Jesper said breathlessly, “I really hope we don’t die.”

            The redhead laughed softly and brought Jesper’s forehead to his. Both boys were catching their breath, each small gasp practically shouting, “How the hell did we get here?”

            “Saints, Jes,” Wylan said, though it came out more like a whimper and a gasp. “Me, too.”


End file.
